Capturing the Moment
by M C Pehrson
Summary: Story #71 Three small Christmas stories. First, join the Kirks on a frosty day at the ranch. Then Spock and his wife deal with trying news at Plum Creek. Finally, Spock's son Simon and his wife Dane work through a disagreement.
1. Miss Adventure

1) Miss Adventure

Daddy called her "smart as a whip", and Tru Kirk tried to live up to his expectations. She was top of her second grade class, and at home when she was not out riding her pony Shiloh, she sometimes spent hours sketching birds and horses and the wildlife she saw in the mountains. Daddy said her artwork was getting almost as good as Mama's, who was a famous painter, but he said it with a twinkle in his eyes.

Tru had decided to draw everyone a bird for Christmas. They were her favorite subjects and she thought she drew them best. Soon each picture was neatly rolled and wrapped and tied with a ribbon. Happily she set them atop the other presents under the tall Christmas tree that glittered over by the staircase. A cozy fire burned on the hearth. The house smelled of ginger cookies and the enchiladas that Mama had readied for dinner before she drove to town.

Smiling, Tru closed her eyes and hugged herself, trying to capture the beautiful moment and never let it go. The front door burst open, letting in a draft of cold air. She looked over and found Lame Wolf striding toward her.

"True Friend," he said, "hurry and bundle up. Uncle said you can go ice fishing with me."

 _Ice fishing!_ With a thrill of excitement, Tru ran upstairs and put on her warmest clothes. By the time she was ready, Lame Wolf had Shiloh and Warrior saddled. She mounted her pony and they rode off together. The day was clear and bitingly cold, but nothing like last winter—the winter of the big snows. Frozen pine needles crunched under the horses' hooves and every breath hung in the air as they moved along the forest trail.

They arrived at Little Kirk Lake, which was really just a big pond. A thick layer of ice coated its surface, but Tru felt warmer here out in the open, with the sun shining on her. She got down from Shiloh and watched Lame Wolf start a campfire on shore. Then finding a suitable spot on the frozen pond, he swung an axe, punching a jagged hole in the ice. He was fifteen, almost as tall as Daddy, strong and dark and handsome.

Finished, Lame Wolf attached a lure to the fishing line and handed her the pole. "Move it slowly up and down," he reminded her.

It was like him to give her the first turn, and before long the pole jerked. Laughing, Tru reeled in a bluegill. Then it was Lame Wolf's turn. As he worked the line, she began to skid over the pond with her boots. A pair of ducks flew overhead. She tried to skid and look up at the same time. Her feet moved onto gray ice and cracks began to form, but she never saw them.

Suddenly the brittle surface gave way. A cry escaped her as she plunged feet-first into frigid water.

"Tru!" Lame Wolf's shout pierced the wintry air.

Pain gripped Tru's body. Panicking, she made a grab for the jagged rim of the ice. It broke. The weight of the water in her clothing dragged her deeper, and her head went below the surface. Her eyes focused on the light streaming into the hole. It looked like a gateway…a gateway to another world.

Her body no longer hurt. She felt numb now, and it was harder to move. Though her lungs were bursting for air, her mind began to quiet. She saw the gifts under the Christmas tree with her name on them, the presents she would never open. She saw her own little sketches, each line drawn with love, and was glad she had finished them.

A very peaceful feeling was coming over her when something pulled her hair. Suddenly she was rising toward the light. Her head broke the surface. She gulped air and began to cough. Lame Wolf lay flat on the cracking ice, a rope in his strong hands. He looped the rope under her limp arms, then scooted away.

"No!" she gasped. "Come back! Help!"

The rope tightened around her chest and tugged at her. Up she rose from the water, onto the splintering patch of thin ice. Shaking uncontrollably, she felt herself slide over a slick surface toward shore, where Lame Wolf had attached the end of the rope to his horse's saddle. Leaving Warrior, he ran over and carried her to the campfire.

Her teeth chattered as she begged, "T-take me home! I w-want to go home!"

He slipped his warm rabbit-skin cap on her head and began to strip off her clothes, but she fought him.

"No! Stop! I'm c-cold! T-take me home!"

His brown face grew stern. "There's no time for that! Trust me, Tru! I'm going to wrap you in the blanket I keep on my saddle. We'll dry your clothes by the fire."

She relented, and soon her wet clothing lay in a heap. Swathed in Lame Wolf's blanket and coat, she watched him feed the fire. With the help of his knife, he quickly created a drying rack for her things. Then he held her on his lap until the good heat drove the last of the chill from her body. Only then did she notice that Lame Wolf was shivering.

"You need your coat," she said.

"I'm not cold," he told her.

 _Then why was he shaking?_ Turning her head, she looked up into his face. The sight of his tears startled her. She had never before seen him cry, and her heart went out to him.

"It's alright," she said. "I'm okay now."

His arms tightened around her, and it made her feel happy and safe. When the fire burned to embers, he got up to check her clothes. Her pants and shirt and socks were dry, so she pulled them on. Lame Wolf loaded her damp coat and boots on Shiloh, along with her bluegill and the axe and the fishing gear. For warmth, they rode double atop Warrior.

"I should have worn a wrist phone," Lame Wolf said. "Your parents will be very worried. I should have done many things differently."

Tru knew how he hated wearing a phone. She did, too. "It's alright," she said again, but she knew there would be trouble.

By the time they reached home, twilight was settling over the ranch. Mama and Daddy were watching at a front window and came out on the porch, their faces tense with worry.

"It's late," Daddy said, using his sharp starship captain's voice. "Where have you two been?"

Lame Wolf dismounted and since Tru was not wearing shoes, he carried her inside. The ride home had made her feet numb again.

"I asked you a question," Daddy said ominously.

Lame Wolf settled her on the sofa. The look of guilt on his face was more than Tru could bear. Abruptly she said, "I wasn't paying attention. I fell through the ice, but Lame Wolf knew exactly what to do."

Mama gasped. Her hand went to her mouth.

"He had a fire already going," Tru explained. "He got me warm and dry. I'm fine now."

Mama sat down beside her and hugged her tight. "Ice fishing!" she said as if they were bad words.

Tru held her breath and waited for the argument to begin, the same old argument about Daddy letting her do things that were too dangerous. Then she saw her father's pained expression, and somehow she knew that they had already been fighting.

Mama gripped her by the shoulders and scolded, "Look here, Miss Adventure! If you ever go off without getting _my_ permission again, you'll regret it!"

Tru held her breath and looked over at her father. How would Daddy deal with such a challenge to his authority?

His face was white to the lips. Tersely he said, "Your mother's right. I should never have let you go, and without even a phone."

Tru stared at him in disbelief. She felt betrayed. Daddy almost always took her side. If it was up to Mama, she would never have any fun.

"You could have died," he told her. "It's time you stop running loose around the countryside."

"But I wasn't running loose," Tru reminded him. "Lame Wolf was with me the whole time."

Lame Wolf shifted uncomfortably. After two years among the Kirks, he knew that there was one thing guaranteed to upset the peace of their home: the question of Tru's safety.

Now Lame Wolf said, "The accident was my fault. If I had been watching her more closely, she never would have fallen through the ice. I'm not hungry. I'm going to bed down the horses and chop wood."

Tru gave him back his coat and rabbit-fur hat. As he went into the night, her eyes blurred with tears. _Chopping wood_. Daddy hated the chore and called it "punishment duty".

The house grew silent. In the fireplace, a log sizzled and popped as it radiated heat. After a moment, Daddy put on his work coat and his wood-chopping gloves, and went outside. Soon, Tru heard the thumping of two axes.

Mama stood up, stared at the fire and said, "Well, I guess dinner can wait a bit..."

Without a word, Tru went upstairs and found some dry shoes and a hooded jacket. She expected her mother to object, but when she came back down, Mama was already out by the chopping blocks, gathering the wood split by Lame Wolf and Daddy. Tru stepped to her mother's side and held out her mitten-covered hands.

"Oh, Tru…" Mama said, but she gave her the smaller pieces, and together they carried them to the stack on the porch.

If felt good to be out working together, and everyone began to relax. Up in the winter sky, a million stars twinkled like Christmas lights. Daddy winked at her, and Tru knew that her adventures were not quite at an end, after all. As she smiled back at him, her heart warmed with the special love they shared. Then closing her eyes, she hugged herself tightly and captured the moment forever.


	2. The Worth of a Soul

2) The Worth of a Soul

T'Naisa's heart pounded as she brought the skimmer in for a landing at Plum Creek and shut down the power. Home safe. Funny, the way she always thought of the skimmer as "Spock's baby"; after all, it was only a hunk of metal and plastic, an inanimate machine. In truth, Spock's baby was strapped into the seat beside her, and now that they had touched down, three-year-old Tess squirmed and struggled to free herself from the safety harness.

"Wait for Mommy," T'Naisa said absently.

She was still reeling from their visit to the pediatric specialist in Boise. Her fingers fumbled over the latches as she unfastened her miracle child, the baby that she had been medically incapable of conceiving.

Tess bounced and smiled. "Dada, Dada," she said. "Down, down."

T'Naisa got out and helped her to the ground. "Okay. Let's see if we can find him."

Tess happily trotted through the light dusting of snow, toward the cabin.

"No, Tess, this way." T'Naisa pointed at the seminary building, and the child changed direction. T'Naisa took hold of her small hand as they entered.

"Pwitty," Tess said, eyeing the decorations.

Yes, it was pretty. As Christmas neared, Spock had been continuing a program begun last summer when he took their two seminarians on a visit to the Holy Land. He thought it vitally important that all Yanashites come to know and respect Jesus, the human Shiav. Under his supervision, the seminarians had decorated the entry with evergreen boughs, colored lights, and a nativity scene.

Tess spotted the Fontanini Christmas crèche and pulled T'Naisa over for a closer look. "Baby," she said, pointing a chubby finger at the Christ Child.

"Baby Jesus," T'Naisa told her.

As always, Tess smiled.

Sudden tears brimmed in T'Naisa's eyes. As she wiped at them with the back of her coat sleeve, Tess noticed and her smile faded.

"Mommy's okay, honey." T'Naisa swallowed hard and drew a deep breath. She must not cry…not yet. "Come on, Daddy's here somewhere."

At the mention of her father, Tessie's eyes glowed and the smile reappeared on her little face.

They encountered Spock in the hallway and he said, "I heard the skimmer land."

She had not phoned him after the office visit. He would know the news was so bad that she was saving it to tell him in person.

Tess rushed forward, stumbling in her eagerness to reach her father, but he caught her before she hit the floor. As he lifted her into his arms, she squealed in delight. Holding her, he looked into T'Naisa's tearful eyes, and there was really no need for her to say anything. In the past few weeks, Tess had begun to exhibit odd behaviors and had slipped from average mentality to that of a much younger child. The doctor's diagnosis had only confirmed their own research. The regression was due to a pervasive developmental disorder for which there were helpful therapies, but no known cure.

T'Naisa's voice wavered. "Well, we guessed it, alright—an atypical form of autism. He said they don't understand why this happens…but what if it was the poor quality of my egg? Or the nanobots when I was first pregnant? Or some virus I thought was a cold? Oh, Spock…" The words choked off.

"You must not blame yourself," he told her. "As you just said, even the best scientific minds have no idea…"

Abruptly turning, she fled to the temple and wept. It was kind of Spock to comfort her when he was also dealing with the grim news. As a disciplined Vulcan he could shunt pain aside, but Vulcans also had to face the truth. How would he react? Just last winter, he had suffered torments when he began feeling the effects of Bendii Syndrome. Now medication was holding the disease at bay, but there would be no medicine to help Tess. And considering how Vulcans valued the intellect, Spock was sure to think of their child as damaged.

It was dark when T'Naisa finally ventured from the temple. Her breath formed plumes in the deep mountain cold as she walked over to the cabin. Through the kitchen window, she saw Spock busy at the stove. _Was he actually cooking?_

Inside, she hung her coat on a hook and went to the kitchen area. Spock stood stirring a pot of leftover soup. Tess waited at the table, a bib around her neck, a spoon clenched in her hand. T'Naisa remembered that Jamie was spending the night at Jim Kirk's neighboring ranch, and she was glad.

Her eyes lingered on Tess. "Look at her. She's so happy…she doesn't know…she doesn't care."

Spock turned from the soup. "Perhaps she knows secrets that our orthodox minds cannot imagine." Scooping Tess from her chair, he lifted her high over his head, and she laughed. With his lips curving upward, he asked her, "Tessie, why are you always smiling? Your mother's feeling sad; give _her_ a smile."

T'Naisa's worry eased as she watched the two of them together. How could it be? Despite the diagnosis, Tess seemed more precious to Spock than ever. "She's as simple and sweet as a lamb. She's always been so special…I can't think of her as…as…."

Spock lowered Tess into his arms and she clung to his neck. Still speaking to the child, he said, "The Shiav asks us, 'What is the worth of a soul'? You remember him. Remember the stories I have told you about Yanash?"

Tess studied his face intently and said, "Yash."

"That's right. You know Yanash and Yanash has known of you since before time began." At that, he kissed her on the cheek.

The soup was about to boil over, but T'Naisa stood rooted to the spot, amazed at Spock's open display of affection on this of all days. The love in her heart was too deep for words. Surely Christmas had come early to Plum Creek.


	3. Just Around the Corner

3) Just Around the Corner

Dane Sutton S'chn T'gai tucked her blonde hair under the collar of her sweater and raised its hood as she left the Phoenix Temple grounds and headed out for an evening stroll. Inevitably, her steps turned toward Eleventh Street. The old residential neighborhood was alight with Christmas decorations, but one little house stood dark and empty, with a sign in the front yard flashing its many merits. Dane got no farther as she stopped to gaze at it and dream.

It was a short walk back to the temple, where her husband Simon was completing the Yanashite equivalent of a baptism. She waited for him in the sacristy and silently watched as he removed his vestments. Together, they left the temple and walked toward the priests' residence. Finally, he was all hers.

In the moonlit courtyard, she stopped him. "Simon. You know that house on Eleventh Street…the one I always talk about? It's for sale."

He stiffened. "Dane. We've gone over this before…"

"I know. We live here free…but some things are worth paying for. My salary at the Philharmonic would more than cover the payments…and you could think of it as an investment."

"A waste of money, is more like it."

Dane struggled to hold onto her temper. "I feel like we're living in the Temple Master's house. Yosak is always there…and what about LaRue? Yosak doesn't like cats wandering around, so she has to stay cooped up in our bedroom all the time. Simon, we need a place of our own. Don't you want some privacy?"

Simon ran his fingers through his dark, wavy hair. The gesture meant he was frustrated. Well, so was she. How many times must they have the same discussion? The solution seemed simple to her.

"This is all about Yosak," she said, "isn't it? You're worried about what he'd think if we moved off the temple grounds."

Simon sighed. "I'm a priest. That's what the residence is for. You knew I was a priest when you married me." For a moment he almost seemed to relent. "Maybe…someday…if we have a baby. Then it would be different."

Dane was crushed by the remark. He used to say " _when_ we have a baby", not "if". An entire year, and still no pregnancy. The doctor said there was nothing wrong with either of them, but she was starting to lose hope. Tears threatened and she swallowed hard. "What if we never have a child? What then? Would it mean that we'll never have a home of our own, either?" Turning on her heel, she exclaimed, "You're just so selfish!"

oooo

Christmas was only three weeks away, and Simon still had no idea what to get his wife. He never knew what to buy a woman, and in her current mood, nothing would likely satisfy her.

A miniature Christmas tree glowed atop a table in a corner of their room, but there were no presents under it. While Dane rehearsed downtown for her concert, Simon brought out a hologlobe of Christ's nativity and placed it beneath the artificial branches of the tree. As he studied the Bethlehem scene, he thought of Mary and Joseph searching for a safe, warm place to have their Child. He thought of the home in Nazareth where Jesus "increased in wisdom and in stature and in favor with God and man". And he wondered, _Is it selfish of me to expect Dane to live here? Am I more concerned with Yosak's opinion than with the needs of my own wife?_

oooo

Dane continued to pressure Simon about the house. They were in their bedroom and her voice began to rise in exasperation, but as always she had to stifle it. "See? This is exactly what I mean. We can't even talk without worrying about those sharp Vulcan ears of his!"

"Dane, please," Simon reproached her. "What if he heard that?"

"My point exactly," she said in triumph, but there was no joy in the victory.

Dane loved Simon with all her heart. She did not like sharing him with a middle-aged Vulcan who had no wife of his own. She couldn't even prepare Simon a special meal without feeling obligated to cook for Yanash, too. And, of course, they all sat down at the table together…every single day.

"I suppose I should be thankful," she said. "At least we have the bed to ourselves."

At that, Simon's blue eyes flashed with anger. Dane took up her violin case and left for the concert hall, and by the time the performance was over, she had reached a decision. One way or another, that dream house was going to be hers. If Simon refused to live there, she would move in with her cat. A good dose of loneliness might change his mind.

It was late when she tiptoed into their darkened room. Simon appeared to be sleeping, with LaRue curled at the foot of the bed. Quietly she shed her clothes and climbed under the covers.

After a moment, Simon's arm went around her. "How did it go?" he murmured.

She pretended to be asleep.

In the morning, she stayed in bed until Simon left for the morning Kuru. Then she showered quickly, pulled on some jeans, and drove to the realtor's office.

There, Dane's hopes were dashed. "What do you mean, it's sold?" she exclaimed. "I just drove by the house and the sign's still in the yard!"

The realtor looked sympathetic. "I'm sorry, the deal just went through. It's a nice little place, alright, but there are plenty of others I can show you."

But Dane was not interested in any others. She could barely hold back her tears until she reached the car. Laying her head on the wheel, she broke down and sobbed.

oooo

All week, Simon worried about Dane. She was pale and withdrawn and only picked at her food. Even her music no longer seemed to bring her any joy.

Christmas Eve arrived and there was only one gift under their little tree. It was small enough to fit in the palm of Simon's hand. Though he had wrapped it in gold foil and tied it with a bit of red ribbon, it did not look like much. Not when she had her heart set on getting a house.

That evening at dinner, Dane pushed her plate aside after only a bite or two. She felt Yosak's eyes settle on her. His gaze held a particularly piercing quality that sometimes made her uncomfortable, yet she could not deny that he was kind.

"Are you ill?" Yosak asked.

Lately, everyone was asking her that. "Just tired," she said, though it was not entirely true.

She went upstairs to rest before the Christmas Eve concert. Entering the room, she glanced at the calendar and thought of all the monthly disappointments since she married Simon. It was past time to check her condition again, but why bother? Why would this month be any different?

She paused at the brightly lit tree. Her eyes went to the gleaming hologlobe beneath its decorated branches, to the newborn infant cradled in a manger. Though she was not very religious, a sudden prayer burst from her heart. _Please…oh, please!_

Wiping away a tear, she opened a dresser drawer and brought out the little handheld blood tester. Pressing it to her wrist, she pushed a button.

oooo

Watching Dane onstage was a treat for Simon. Her violin added a special beauty to the concert, and she performed in a choral group, as well. On the way to the concert hall, she had seemed happier than usual, but as Simon drove them back to the priests' residence, she closed her eyes and grew quiet in the seat beside him. He wondered what she was thinking.

Suddenly she sighed and said, "The house…it's sold."

"What house?" he asked, as if he had not already guessed. He braced himself.

"The one on Eleventh Street. The one I wanted."

Simon pulled onto the temple grounds and settled the car in their space. His heart pounded as he turned to Dane. In her choral costume, she looked like a golden-haired angel.

"Let's not argue," he pleaded. "Not tonight."

They got out of the car. As Dane started for the door, Simon reached out and stopped her. "I don't want to go in," he said. "Not yet. The night's so beautiful, let's go for a walk under the stars."

"But it's almost midnight."

"Just for a while," he pressed. Holding her hand, he started south. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you about that house you liked. I know it's been sold…but can you show it to me, anyway?"

They went around the corner, onto Eleventh Street. Before long Dane came to a halt near a street light and pointed. "There," she said. "See? The sign's gone. There's a Christmas tree all lit up in the front window." She sounded very disappointed. "Someone's already moved in."

"I'm so sorry," he repeated contritely. Reaching into a pocket, he brought out the foil-wrapped gift and pressed it into her hand. "I know this isn't much, but it's all I could think to give you."

Off in the distance, some church bells rang out. It was midnight.

Tears clung to Dane's lashes as she fingered the little present. Her eyes rose to meet his. "I have a present for you, too. Only I couldn't figure out how to wrap it."

Taking his hand, she gently placed it on her flat belly. A thrill traveled through Simon and sent his heart racing. "No! You're joking!"

Her mouth curved into a demure smile. "I only found out today…just after dinner. I guess that's why I've been kind of tired…and out of sorts."

Simon gathered her into his arms and she clung to him as they shared a slow, tender kiss. As he drew back and gazed into her eyes, she somehow seemed new and mysterious. Dane Sutton, the mother of his child. It was almost too much to bear, and for a moment it seemed like he would explode with love. But then he breathed the cool night air deeply and his head cleared.

"Open my present now," he said.

Dane picked at the little package until the wrapping gave way. She found a computer card and held it up to the lamplight.

"What's it for?" she questioned.

"Here," he said, trying hard not to laugh. "I'll show you." He took the entry card from her and walked up to the front door of the house.

Horrified, she ran after him. "Simon, get back here! People are inside!"

But the card was already in the slot, and Simon swung the door open. Movers had hurriedly stacked their sparse furnishings in a corner of the living room. Meowing, LaRue came over and rubbed her furry white body against their legs. Simon watched with pleasure as Dane's mouth opened in astonishment.

"Merry Christmas," he said. And now, at last, he could laugh.


End file.
